


Shards

by VoidySkelecat



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Au Ra Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), M/M, Male Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Past Relationship(s), Patch 5.0: Shadowbringers Spoilers, and onwards, tags to added with stories
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2021-01-13 11:02:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21243038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VoidySkelecat/pseuds/VoidySkelecat
Summary: Disconnected one shots featuring the warrior of light, Cernunnos Fideles, and all those connected to him.Individual stories will be tagged for pairings, triggers, etc.





	1. Voracious - WoL

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't find out about the write challenge until well into September and had yet to finish the MSQ at the time, but I like the prompts and wanted to play with them.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cernnunos retreats to Amaurot.
> 
> Tags:  
Mild suicidal ideation  
Reference to past relationship

It horrified him to know what he did now. That Hydaelyn and her loathed other half were Primals. That there'd been truth in the Ascians word when he'd compared her to a parasite. She was buried so deep in this star that she may as well have been its will, just as Zodiark was summoned to be, but she _wasn't_ the star itself. The star - and he struggled to name it now without feeling ill to the core - had a heart made of the millions of souls that were born from it, returned to it when they died, and were cycled through it to repeat the whole process over again. The Mothercrystal (and what a bullshit title that was, she hadn't birthed this world so much as she'd shattered it) didn't feed on their aether, but their memories. Or so he liked to think. He wasn't truly certain what kept her moving, kept her heart beating, and for all he knew it could be the very thing that Zodiark had demanded with his summoning.

Souls, and a grand number of them.

Here, in the depths of the sea in the city of Amaurot, her pull wasn't nearly so strong. It was already tenuous at best in the First, barely a flutter in his thoughts, but here her presence was nigh imperceptible. He felt her as little as a gnat landing on his skin. He wondered if he'd been tempered. It would make sense, wouldn't it? Tempered at the time of his birth and made, molded to obey her will. She disguised it with kindness and love and all those fluffy things, but Lakshmi had done much the same with her followers. He couldn't trust a Primal who spoke in riddles in half-truths, who kept the past on lockdown, even if she'd been the one to keep him alive this long.

No, fuck, it had been his bow, his harp, and his friends who'd kept the breath in his lungs and the blood and aether flowing hot in his veins, not some glorified rock who many called a god. He plucked at the strings of the instrument, drawing from it a sweet tune and an equally honeyed smile from a passing Amaurotine. He smiled back as they passed before resuming his plucking, mouthing lyrics to a song yet to be composed. A rift opened then and Midgardsormr's dragonet form flitted out to land on his shoulder. The real thing was still resting in his rift and could not speak through this frail little body, but he could think and he could hear the elegy the bard was spinning. It would be a duo, he thought. He'd need to find another bard to complete it but...

With Hades's face and words in his mind, the memory of the death of a world and a final cataclysmic battle still fresh in his memory, he knew it was a song that couldn't go unwritten. It was a tale that deserved to be sung far and wide, to be spun into the very lore of the star and to shake a belief held too long by her people so they could strive to reach the grand heights their earliest ancestors had reached and, he hoped, avoid making the selfsame mistakes.

He rose, letting his feet carry him where they would. Chulainn rose from where he rested and followed him closely, as hypersensitive to his master's emotions as ever. Chocobos, he thought, were the greatest of the old people's creations. Records of their friendship with man could be traced back to antiquity. Further still, if the records he'd dug up in the Akadamia were to be believed, and of course they were – why would Hades plant lies about chocobos of all things? He'd caught the man petting the bird and feeding her treats while constantly snubbing any and all tentative attempts at friendship from the Warrior of Light himself. The bird was the only thing that kept Cernunnos from spiraling on the days he was struck by the need to self-isolate. He did more for his continued existence than his echo ever had, for without his steady, persistent company, Cernunnos would have returned himself to the Lifestream years ago, destiny be damned.

He sought out one of Amaurot's great libraries, greeting the the denizen at the front desk before slinking off to hide himself amongst the books. Emet-Selch had seemingly filled the place with every book that had ever been written on the Source and its shards, and it was as much a fount of culture and knowledge as every other place in the city. He ignored the familiar books and went as deep as he could go to where the Amaurotine nonfiction was kept. He'd spend hours there studying the dizzy, dense books, only stopping only to take care of himself and his bird. Most of the stuff was difficult to parse even by Sharlayan standards and he'd often have to take breaks to pour over the books of music and poetry he dug when the struggle to learn and understand became too much. He wondered if Hades would be disappointed in him for internalizing to little, but he'd never been a scholar. He was an archer and a singer and occasional painter. He'd only just picked up magecraft and wasn't good enough to really consider himself a thaumaturge. His attention span was painfully poor.

He stopped and gave a grand stretch. He was reluctant to open the book on his lap, the one on Primals, so he stuffed it into his inventory along with a few dense engineering books he thought Cid and Nero would like, and a history of the city state he'd only just discovered today. After a pause, he added what he surmised from its contents to be grimmoire. He'd let the twins and Urianger fight it out for that one. Maybe it would have an answer to their current dilemma and G'raha Tia would be able to send them home. He left then, rousing Chulainn to wakefulness and leading him through the labyrinthine hallways to the city outside.

There they flew the aether to the highest tower, where he could see Emet-Selch's work in all her glory. Amaurot was massive in a way that was almost hard to comprehend, massive even considering the size of its people (who, to his unending amusement saw him as a child due to his comparatively small stature. He was tall even by Au Ra standards, so it felt weird to be the tiny one). The architecture was vastly different from anything he'd ever seen, simultaneously angular and sweeping, dark and brimming with electrical lights warmer than any the Empire could construct. Night black and glittering with artificial starlight. He could tell at a glance it was made to be beautiful and that Emet-Selch and those that came before him had poured their hearts and souls into its construction. He found himself humming as he beheld it, the song from earlier returning to forefront of his mind. With his legs dangling over the edge he composed, stopping only when he found himself humming an entirely different elegy and his memories set his heart aching. He closed the book he'd been scrawling notes and lyrics into and stared out at the city.

Once more his mind, ever anxious and eager to worry, returned to Hydaelyn. He hoped that once Zodiark was defeated he could sever his ties with her and just...be normal again. He wanted to master black magic and maybe trade his bow for a gun. He wanted to weave beautiful clothing and sing in taverns. He didn't want to fight in anymore wars. But he doubted fate would be so kind and for all he knew he'd have to slay the Mothercrystal herself to be free. He doubted he'd be very popular after that, but he'd been on a long leash for a long time (centuries and centuries) and he craved freedom above all else.

He would not be a thrall on his deathbed.


	2. Bargain - Midgardsormr

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Midgardsormr flees the smoldering remains of his home.

The destruction of Dragonstar was still fresh in Midgardsormr's mind when he landed on Hydaelyn. The sheer, raw, bloody destruction of it had opened a wound in his soul and it ached and bled still. He'd watched thousands of millions of his race die under their enemies blades and those horrible weapons they'd constructed purely to kill. He'd watched broody mothers slain on their nests and witness their unborn children massacred. He'd watched a planet flow red with blood and saw it burn as he fled into the rift, carrying the few eggs he'd managed to salvage. So few, so precious they were. He wasn't wholly confident they would survive. Only one was truly his own, the rest he'd salvaged from the wreckage of aeries and burnt nest, drawn by the desperate flickering of the incomplete souls of the unborn.

He chased the stars in the endless cold of space and found planets of gas, and dirt, and molten lava as cold and dead as the machine that chased him still. Few were capable of supporting even simple, monocellular life, and none possessed the Lifestream, or the resources, to support something as complex as a dragon.

Can you sense me, Omega? Can you feel my rage? My desperation? Is your directive to wipe my race from existence so strong that you would chase me to the universe's very end?

His soul grew weak as he went, but he flew on. To rest meant death. Far away as it was, he could still sense Omega closing in whenever he faltered. He could not stop yet. He could not rest his eyes. The clutch he carried yet grew in body soul, drawing off his own aether to supplement that which their mothers had given them. He was on a timer, one that would end the moment the first egg tooth pierced a hard, shimmering shell. He could hear the unborn shifting in their shells, and it terrified and excited him in equal measure.

He found her near the end, mere weeks before the first dragonet could emerge. Her warmth sang to him in the vast void and he beat his wings harder and drove himself forward. He would reach her, but he would come perilously close to dying before he did. When he landed, he drank deep from the planet, restoring his depleted aether and with it his strength.

It was then he learned the planet possessed a will.

Her name was Hydaelyn and she was a monstrous thing. A being of pure light who sought only to protect those who dwelled upon the stone she'd burrowed herself into. Her soul, massy compared to even his own, spread across its surface like a dragon's wings over their nest. Yet something was _off _about her. She wasn't a natural thing, but manifest aether. She had no true personality but was a thing made for a purpose and he wasn't quick to trust things made with a purpose, not when they were capable of thought.

Omega, the strongest of such things, pursued him still.

So he struck a bargain with the divine will. He had little choice in the matter. Either he give himself to her or she would force him to leave again and risk death at Omega's claws if he didn't flee to the rift once more. He'd watch his children be born only to die and the mere thought of it filled him with such deep sorrow and pain that he knew there was nothing he wouldn't do, nothing he wouldn't give, to assure they lived and thrived.

He would save his race at the cost of his own freedom. When the time came, he would protect Hydaelyn's chosen warrior. But for now-

-the eggs were hatching.

He watched with warmth and love and contentment as the first of the new brood finally managed to escape her first home. She was a tiny thing. Her eyes still closed and head too big for her body. Her wings hung at her sides like swathes of thin, transparent cloths and would be useless for hundreds of years still. She was wet and wailing pitifully for food and she was the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen.

Tiamat, he named her. After Tiamat who loved Dragonstar more than any. Who grew to become the greatest of his generals. Tiamat who died at the hands of their enemy's greatest weapon and fell from the sky like a golden meteor.

Bahamut followed, wailing with hunger. Then Azdaja and Vrtra, born from the same egg, their souls forever twined. Nidhogg came with a surge of barely contained rage towards the cold. Next came Ratatoskr, whose voice was sweet as her mother and who kept nearly tumbling from the nest in her curious explorations. Hraesvelgr came last and felt such strong, deep love for things he was yet to know that he Midgardsormr was nearly driven to weep.

A clutch of seven, small by draconic standards but more than enough. More than that which had remained when he fled his home. With them he would have no time to brood. He couldn't weep and wail and retreat in on himself while he had hungry nestlings to feed. They would heal them and one day they would return his race to their former glory.

He only needed to wait.


	3. Lost - WoL & Urianger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Memories lost

In the end Cernunnos groaned and threw the book down. It hit the floor with a puff of dust (Urianger really needed to sweep) and the Au Ra immediately followed, laying himself out on his belly and smacking his palms on the ground like a toddler throwing a tantrum. He groaned and repeated the action when Urianger didn't immediately respond to him. Amused, the elezan closed his book but waited a few moments longer. Cernunnos finally turned his face to him and scowled.

“I'm lost. I don't understand any of this.”

“I needn't expect you to.”

“And I'm bored.”

“Then take leave for a walk and return when your restlessness hath been sated,” Urianger replied, a smile ghosting his lips. This earned him an incredulous stare. The Warrior of Light sat up and gestured at the shaded windows just in time for the winged shadow of a pixie to flit past. Giggles tittered in, indicating the fae and their friends were plotting mischief of some kind, the sort that would no doubt involve Cernunnos should the warrior decide to leave his friend's home. To make matters worse, it was raining outside, too, which meant the Fuath would be out in full force. Despite the vague orders of their king, the water fae still longed to make Cernunnos one of their own, and that desire often manifested as spiteful, borderline harmful pranks.

“Then perform for me,” the elezen said, nodding toward the lyre laying a few feet from the warrior's place on the floor. Cernunnos's gaze followed the motion and an odd look overtook his features.

“Ah, if you don't mind the noise...”

“Thou were flailing about and moaning like a child mere moments ago, mine friend. Sweet melodies would hardly be a distraction now.”

The Au Ra went red with embarrassment and he averted his eyes, going for the little harp as he did. Urianger watched him fiddle with the instrument to make sure it hadn't gone out of tune, then began plucking at his strings, forming some aimless, drifting melody as he did. The elezen reopened his book, but found himself glancing in Cernunnos's direction every so often.

There were few times the warrior looked so at peace than when he was playing. His attention was focused singularly on the instrument in his hands, eyes heavy lidded and expression relaxed. He would fall into a rhythm, eyes falling shut and begin singing one song or another. His songs were often meaningless, cheery things, written to distract himself or entertain others, but occasionally they would be dark and melancholic. Elegies. The one he sang now was most definitely that, but the language was...difficult to parse. Amaurotine, but in the tongue they reserved for music. It was one Urianger hadn't yet bothered to learn, but which Cernunnos immediately took to, as if he'd known it his entire life. This disturbed the elezen more than he liked it too – he thought of Hades's odd, apparent familiarity with the Warrior of Light, and Cernunnos's own strange behavior following the Ascian's death. He'd spent increasingly longer peruods of time in Amaurot, his last visit dragging on for almost a week before he'd shown up at Urianger's door with his bag of holding heavy with old tomes.

“Alphinaud's not answering his linkpearl, and I don't feel like tracking him down, so you've got first dibs," he'd said in greeting.

Urianger worried more for the warrior's well-being than was strictly necessary (or proper, if Alisae was to be believed), but worry he did. As he worried less when the bard was nearby, Urianger had asked him to stay a bit to help him go through the tomes. Once he'd brought up the potential of lunch it had taken almost no pushing to make him stay, despite his dislike of dense books. The elezen found himself worrying anyways, and seeing this did little to assuage his fears.

Cernunnos paused abruptly, meeting Urianger's gaze and giving him a questioning look.

“Is something amiss?”

Cernunnos started to shake his head, then aborted the gesture. “It's difficult to say.”

“I've plenty of time on mine hands if thou wouldst like to talk.”

Cernunnos looked down, suddenly looking lost in thought. His calloused fingers hovered over the lyre's gold tinted strings a few moments as he mulled over whatever thoughts had possessed him. Urianger waited patiently. He knew full well that pushing his friend to speak would only make him retreat. He'd learned this the hard way some few months prior when he'd questioned Cernunnos on the events following his reunion with Alisae. Cernunnos grew attached to people quickly and mourned heavily and if he was in mourning now, for that one then...the elezen would have to be careful with his words.

“I found a picture of myself in Amaurot.”

“A painting?”

“A picture,” he repeated, ringing his hands together. The lyre laid flat on his lap, abandoned. “It was...if the documents I found there and the building plans were to be believed...in Emet-Sel-” he shook his head, “-Hades's apartment.”

A cold chill went down Urianger's spine. The Ascian was dead, but there was nonetheless something deeply disturbing about him keeping a picture of Cernunnos's likeness in his personal quarters. It spoke of an obsession that, had Emet-Selch been in a different sort of mind...

“It's...not just me in the picture, but...” he paused a beat and did that nervous thing where he rapped his knuckles on his thighs. He didn't seem afraid, but he was getting there. “Here, let me show you.”

The lyre was put aside and the bard rose to his, pausing to wince and rub his legs as the blood rushed to them. From his bag he drew out a journal, and from that he drew out a slip, he then crossed the room and handed it to Urianger.

“This doesn't leave this room. Swear to me that it won't.”

The uncharacteristic sharpness in Cernunnos's voice startled him some, but he promised he wouldn't tell and looked down at the photo.

It was neither a drawing nor painting and the surface was smooth and shiny. It showed the likeness of a hyur (an Amaurotine, he silently corrected) with white hair and a familiar face. The skin tone and race were wrong, but the resemblance the man bore to Cernunnos was uncanny. It was eerie, made eerier still by the presence of two men in robes, one wearing a variant of the Amaurotine masks, and another who, despite missing the Garlean third eye, was no doubt Emet-Selch. He had the same face and sleepy eyes, the same dark hair (though it was longer) and distinct white streak.

“This wouldst be...”

“I think...that was me. Before Hydaelyn split everything.”

Ah. Okay. That...that certainly explained his behavior these past few moons.

“And what makes thou believe such? This could be mere coincidence.”

“Turn it over. Please."

With a sinking feeling, Urianger did just that. On the back, written in neat Amaurotine scrawl, was what he guessed to be a date, and beneath it three names:

Hades, Hythlodaeus, and Cernunnos.

“Thine enemy might have planted it there to confuse thee,” Urianger said, though he felt disturbed. Logic told him that had Emet-Selch wanted Cernunnos to see this, he would have dropped it somewhere more obvious than one of the many apartments in the vast city. Still, it was strange.

“It would explain why I took to the language so quickly.”

“Thine Echo-”

“I can tell when something's translated by the Echo, Ur. I don't know how to describe it, but O can feel it. This...I just looked at it and it was as if I'd known it my entire life. I looked at this picture and...I started weeping, Ur. Just like I did after I met Hythlodaeus. Like I knew him and just hadn't seen him in a long time."

He looked ready to collapse, then. Tears budded at the edge of his eyes and it took everything Urianger had to not drag the man into a hug. As little as he cared about propriety right then, Cernunnos didn't like being touched unless he was the one to engage it. He watched the man for a moment, heart aching as the Au Ra fought back the tears threatening to roll down his face. He turned away, briefly looking ashamed. He hated crying in front of people. Urianger could only wait for him to calm himself. He felt uniquely helpless.

“I'm scared, Ur,” he finally said. “I'm scared because I feel like I should remember these things and they're right there, but every time I reach for them they suddenly aren't there. I feel _shouldn't _be able to remember them, but I feel like I _should _and Hydaelyn...what if she's blocking those memories out? What if she's hiding them so I don't feel something when I kill an Ascian?”

“She would be doing a poor job if such were the case.”

A weak laugh. “I think whatever Midgardsormr did to deny me her light back then silenced her, so maybe it removed whatever lock she put on my Amaurotine memories and they're gradually seeping in.”

“If that should turn out to be the case, know mineself and thine other friends would be there for thee.”

He nodded and finally, cautiously turned back to Urianger. He was still scrubbing his, now splotchy face with his palms.

“If thou should need it, the Nu Mou have a hot spring within their territory. Should you ask them, they would not deny thee its use."

The rain had finally stopped. A small mercy. The walk would be wet, but both of them had walked through worse in their lifetimes.

“Hot water sounds nice, yeah.”

The bard was Alphinaud's antithesis in that he possessed a deep love for water. Not only could he swim, but he took every opportunity he could to do it. Being granted the ability to breath underwater was nothing short of a boon for him, and he'd spend hours exploring any and every body of water he could find. Sharks and other such predators were not a deterrence, and he would summon Midgardsormr before going into more dangerous waters. If there was no evidence to prove otherwise, Urianger would think his friend had been a fish in his past life.

“Will you come with me?”

Urianger raised an eyebrow. He saw an opportunity to calm Cernunnos some and latched onto. “Thou wouldst have me bath with you?”

As expected, Cernunnos sputtered and his face went redder for an entirely different reason. “I mean, only if you want to? They had lots of public bath houses in Shirogane and Doma, so I kinda got used to it, but if you don't want to that's fine! I just feel really weird asking them and...” he wiped his hands on his coat and examined his boots with intense interest, “you're good at talking to them, you know? And I'm still getting used to the fae.”

Urianger didn't bother fighting the amused smile that crept over his face. “Mine friend, thou have no need to panic, I would be most pleased to accompany thee.”

Cernunnos continued to examine his boots for a moment longer before looking up and smiling sheepishly. It was cute, though “cute” felt like an odd word for a man equal his height.

“We should be going, then,” he said, and Cernunnos nodded and turned to gather up his things. They'd be safe here, but it soothed his anxiety some to keep them close. Especially with thieving pixies flitting about. The pair tidied up quickly. It was still midday, but knowing Cernunnos, they'd be there for hours and Urianger wanted to get home before nightfall. Staying out late increased the risk of being dragged into whatever festivities the fae happened to be celebrating, and while he could put up with it, he didn't want to risk them pestering Cernunnos.

“Ur?”

“Yes?”

“What if I remember everything and suddenly I'm not, you know, me anymore?”

“Wouldst thou forget everything you hath experienced in this life? Nay. Even so, memories and knowledge a person do not make. Thou wouldst still hath your personality and...it may be a small comfort, but I feel certain the Emet-Selch saw more familiar in thou than your face.”

“I suppose you're right,” he said, smiling.

It felt forced and the distant, weary expression returned the moment he thought Urianger wasn't watching. The elezen felt a stab of worry and briefly considered relaying what he'd been told, what he'd been shown, to the other Scions. Then immediately decided that no, he would not. Doing so would be a violation of Cernunnos's trust and the promise he'd made to him. So for now he'd keep his lips sealed and comfort his friend as much as he could.

He couldn't help but worry about him.

In the end Cernunnos groaned and threw the book down. It hit the floor with a puff of dust (Urianger really needed to sweep) and the Au Ra immediately followed, laying himself out on his belly and smacking his palms on the ground like a toddler throwing a tantrum. He groaned and repeated the action when Urianger didn't immediately respond to him. Amused, the elezan closed his book but waited a few moments longer. Cernunnos finally turned his face to him and scowled.

“I'm lost. I don't understand any of this.”

“I needn't expect you to.”

“And I'm bored.”

“Then take leave for a walk and return when your restlessness hath been sated,” Urianger replied, a smile ghosting his lips. This earned him an incredulous stare. The Warrior of Light sat up and gestured at the shaded windows just in time for the winged shadow of a pixie to flit past. Giggles tittered in, indicating the fae and their friends were plotting mischief of some kind, the sort that would no doubt involve Cernunnos should the warrior decide to leave his friend's home. To make matters worse, it was raining outside, too, which meant the Fuath would be out in full force. Despite the vague orders of their king, the water fae still longed to make Cernunnos one of their own, and that desire often manifested as spiteful, borderline harmful pranks.

“Then perform for me,” the elezen said, nodding toward the lyre laying a few feet from the warrior's place on the floor. Cernunnos's gaze followed the motion and an odd look overtook his features.

“Ah, if you don't mind the noise...”

“Thou were flailing about and moaning like a child mere moments ago, mine friend. Sweet melodies would hardly be a distraction now.”

The Au Ra went red with embarrassment and he averted his eyes, going for the little harp as he did. Urianger watched him fiddle with the instrument to make sure it hadn't gone out of tune, then began plucking at his strings, forming some aimless, drifting melody as he did. The elezen reopened his book, but found himself glancing in Cernunnos's direction every so often.

There were few times the warrior looked so at peace than when he was playing. His attention was focused singularly on the instrument in his hands, eyes heavy lidded and expression relaxed. He would fall into a rhythm, eyes falling shut and begin singing one song or another. His songs were often meaningless, cheery things, written to distract himself or entertain others, but occasionally they would be dark and melancholic. Elegies. The one he sang now was most definitely that, but the language was...difficult to parse. Amaurotine, but in the tongue they reserved for music. It was one Urianger hadn't yet bothered to learn, but which Cernunnos immediately took to, as if he'd known it his entire life. This disturbed the elezen more than he liked it too – he thought of Hades's odd, apparent familiarity with the Warrior of Light, and Cernunnos's own strange behavior following the Ascian's death. He'd spent increasingly longer peruods of time in Amaurot, his last visit dragging on for almost a week before he'd shown up at Urianger's door with his bag of holding heavy with old tomes.

“Alphinaud's not answering his linkpearl, and I don't feel like tracking him down, so you've got first dibs," he'd said in greeting.

Urianger worried more for the warrior's well-being than was strictly necessary (or proper, if Alisae was to be believed), but worry he did. As he worried less when the bard was nearby, Urianger had asked him to stay a bit to help him go through the tomes. Once he'd brought up the potential of lunch it had taken almost no pushing to make him stay, despite his dislike of dense books. The elezen found himself worrying anyways, and seeing this did little to assuage his fears.

Cernunnos paused abruptly, meeting Urianger's gaze and giving him a questioning look.

“Is something amiss?”

Cernunnos started to shake his head, then aborted the gesture. “It's difficult to say.”

“I've plenty of time on mine hands if thou wouldst like to talk.”

Cernunnos looked down, suddenly looking lost in thought. His calloused fingers hovered over the lyre's gold tinted strings a few moments as he mulled over whatever thoughts had possessed him. Urianger waited patiently. He knew full well that pushing his friend to speak would only make him retreat. He'd learned this the hard way some few months prior when he'd questioned Cernunnos on the events following his reunion with Alisae. Cernunnos grew attached to people quickly and mourned heavily and if he was in mourning now, for that one then...the elezen would have to be careful with his words.

“I found a picture of myself in Amaurot.”

“A painting?”

“A picture,” he repeated, ringing his hands together. The lyre laid flat on his lap, abandoned. “It was...if the documents I found there and the building plans were to be believed...in Emet-Sel-” he shook his head, “-Hades's apartment.”

A cold chill went down Urianger's spine. The Ascian was dead, but there was nonetheless something deeply disturbing about him keeping a picture of Cernunnos's likeness in his personal quarters. It spoke of an obsession that, had Emet-Selch been in a different sort of mind...

“It's...not just me in the picture, but...” he paused a beat and did that nervous thing where he rapped his knuckles on his thighs. He didn't seem afraid, but he was getting there. “Here, let me show you.”

The lyre was put aside and the bard rose to his, pausing to wince and rub his legs as the blood rushed to them. From his bag he drew out a journal, and from that he drew out a slip, he then crossed the room and handed it to Urianger.

“This doesn't leave this room. Swear to me that it won't.”

The uncharacteristic sharpness in Cernunnos's voice startled him some, but he promised he wouldn't tell and looked down at the photo.

It was neither a drawing nor painting and the surface was smooth and shiny. It showed the likeness of a hyur (an Amaurotine, he silently corrected) with white hair and a familiar face. The skin tone and race were wrong, but the resemblance the man bore to Cernunnos was uncanny. It was eerie, made eerier still by the presence of two men in robes, one wearing a variant of the Amaurotine masks, and another who, despite missing the Garlean third eye, was no doubt Emet-Selch. He had the same face and sleepy eyes, the same dark hair (though it was longer) and distinct white streak.

“This wouldst be...”

“I think...that was me. Before Hydaelyn split everything.”

Ah. Okay. That...that certainly explained his behavior these past few moons.

“And what makes thou believe such? This could be mere coincidence.”

“Turn it over. Please."

With a sinking feeling, Urianger did just that. On the back, written in neat Amaurotine scrawl, was what he guessed to be a date, and beneath it three names:

Hades, Hythlodaeus, and Cernunnos.

“Thine enemy might have planted it there to confuse thee,” Urianger said, though he felt disturbed. Logic told him that had Emet-Selch wanted Cernunnos to see this, he would have dropped it somewhere more obvious than one of the many apartments in the vast city. Still, it was strange.

“It would explain why I took to the language so quickly.”

“Thine Echo-”

“I can tell when something's translated by the Echo, Ur. I don't know how to describe it, but O can feel it. This...I just looked at it and it was as if I'd known it my entire life. I looked at this picture and...I started weeping, Ur. Just like I did after I met Hythlodaeus. Like I knew him and just hadn't seen him in a long time."

He looked ready to collapse, then. Tears budded at the edge of his eyes and it took everything Urianger had to not drag the man into a hug. As little as he cared about propriety right then, Cernunnos didn't like being touched unless he was the one to engage it. He watched the man for a moment, heart aching as the Au Ra fought back the tears threatening to roll down his face. He turned away, briefly looking ashamed. He hated crying in front of people. Urianger could only wait for him to calm himself. He felt uniquely helpless.

“I'm scared, Ur,” he finally said. “I'm scared because I feel like I should remember these things and they're right there, but every time I reach for them they suddenly aren't there. I feel _shouldn't _be able to remember them, but I feel like I _should _and Hydaelyn...what if she's blocking those memories out? What if she's hiding them so I don't feel something when I kill an Ascian?”

“She would be doing a poor job if such were the case.”

A weak laugh. “I think whatever Midgardsormr did to deny me her light back then silenced her, so maybe it removed whatever lock she put on my Amaurotine memories and they're gradually seeping in.”

“If that should turn out to be the case, know mineself and thine other friends would be there for thee.”

He nodded and finally, cautiously turned back to Urianger. He was still scrubbing his, now splotchy face with his palms.

“If thou should need it, the Nu Mou have a hot spring within their territory. Should you ask them, they would not deny thee its use."

The rain had finally stopped. A small mercy. The walk would be wet, but both of them had walked through worse in their lifetimes.

“Hot water sounds nice, yeah.”

The bard was Alphinaud's antithesis in that he possessed a deep love for water. Not only could he swim, but he took every opportunity he could to do it. Being granted the ability to breath underwater was nothing short of a boon for him, and he'd spend hours exploring any and every body of water he could find. Sharks and other such predators were not a deterrence, and he would summon Midgardsormr before going into more dangerous waters. If there was no evidence to prove otherwise, Urianger would think his friend had been a fish in his past life.

“Will you come with me?”

Urianger raised an eyebrow. He saw an opportunity to calm Cernunnos some and latched onto. “Thou wouldst have me bath with you?”

As expected, Cernunnos sputtered and his face went redder for an entirely different reason. “I mean, only if you want to? They had lots of public bath houses in Shirogane and Doma, so I kinda got used to it, but if you don't want to that's fine! I just feel really weird asking them and...” he wiped his hands on his coat and examined his boots with intense interest, “you're good at talking to them, you know? And I'm still getting used to the fae.”

Urianger didn't bother fighting the amused smile that crept over his face. “Mine friend, thou have no need to panic, I would be most pleased to accompany thee.”

Cernunnos continued to examine his boots for a moment longer before looking up and smiling sheepishly. It was cute, though “cute” felt like an odd word for a man equal his height.

“We should be going, then,” he said, and Cernunnos nodded and turned to gather up his things. They'd be safe here, but it soothed his anxiety some to keep them close. Especially with thieving pixies flitting about. The pair tidied up quickly. It was still midday, but knowing Cernunnos, they'd be there for hours and Urianger wanted to get home before nightfall. Staying out late increased the risk of being dragged into whatever festivities the fae happened to be celebrating, and while he could put up with it, he didn't want to risk them pestering Cernunnos.

“Ur?”

“Yes?”

“What if I remember everything and suddenly I'm not, you know, me anymore?”

“Wouldst thou forget everything you hath experienced in this life? Nay. Even so, memories and knowledge a person do not make. Thou wouldst still hath your personality and...it may be a small comfort, but I feel certain the Emet-Selch saw more familiar in thou than your face.”

“I suppose you're right,” he said, smiling.

It felt forced and the distant, weary expression returned the moment he thought Urianger wasn't watching. The elezen felt a stab of worry and briefly considered relay

In the end Cernunnos groaned and threw the book down. It hit the floor with a puff of dust (Urianger really needed to sweep) and the Au Ra immediately followed, laying himself out on his belly and smacking his palms on the ground like a toddler throwing a tantrum. He groaned and repeated the action when Urianger didn't immediately respond to him. Amused, the elezan closed his book but waited a few moments longer. Cernunnos finally turned his face to him and scowled.

“I'm lost. I don't understand any of this.”

“I needn't expect you to.”

“And I'm bored.”

“Then take leave for a walk and return when your restlessness hath been sated,” Urianger replied, a smile ghosting his lips. This earned him an incredulous stare. The Warrior of Light sat up and gestured at the shaded windows just in time for the winged shadow of a pixie to flit past. Giggles tittered in, indicating the fae and their friends were plotting mischief of some kind, the sort that would no doubt involve Cernunnos should the warrior decide to leave his friend's home. To make matters worse, it was raining outside, too, which meant the Fuath would be out in full force. Despite the vague orders of their king, the water fae still longed to make Cernunnos one of their own, and that desire often manifested as spiteful, borderline harmful pranks.

“Then perform for me,” the elezen said, nodding toward the lyre laying a few feet from the warrior's place on the floor. Cernunnos's gaze followed the motion and an odd look overtook his features.

“Ah, if you don't mind the noise...”

“Thou were flailing about and moaning like a child mere moments ago, mine friend. Sweet melodies would hardly be a distraction now.”

The Au Ra went red with embarrassment and he averted his eyes, going for the little harp as he did. Urianger watched him fiddle with the instrument to make sure it hadn't gone out of tune, then began plucking at his strings, forming some aimless, drifting melody as he did. The elezen reopened his book, but found himself glancing in Cernunnos's direction every so often.

There were few times the warrior looked so at peace than when he was playing. His attention was focused singularly on the instrument in his hands, eyes heavy lidded and expression relaxed. He would fall into a rhythm, eyes falling shut and begin singing one song or another. His songs were often meaningless, cheery things, written to distract himself or entertain others, but occasionally they would be dark and melancholic. Elegies. The one he sang now was most definitely that, but the language was...difficult to parse. Amaurotine, but in the tongue they reserved for music. It was one Urianger hadn't yet bothered to learn, but which Cernunnos immediately took to, as if he'd known it his entire life. This disturbed the elezen more than he liked it too – he thought of Hades's odd, apparent familiarity with the Warrior of Light, and Cernunnos's own strange behavior following the Ascian's death. He'd spent increasingly longer peruods of time in Amaurot, his last visit dragging on for almost a week before he'd shown up at Urianger's door with his bag of holding heavy with old tomes.

“Alphinaud's not answering his linkpearl, and I don't feel like tracking him down, so you've got first dibs," he'd said in greeting.

Urianger worried more for the warrior's well-being than was strictly necessary (or proper, if Alisae was to be believed), but worry he did. As he worried less when the bard was nearby, Urianger had asked him to stay a bit to help him go through the tomes. Once he'd brought up the potential of lunch it had taken almost no pushing to make him stay, despite his dislike of dense books. The elezen found himself worrying anyways, and seeing this did little to assuage his fears.

Cernunnos paused abruptly, meeting Urianger's gaze and giving him a questioning look.

“Is something amiss?”

Cernunnos started to shake his head, then aborted the gesture. “It's difficult to say.”

“I've plenty of time on mine hands if thou wouldst like to talk.”

Cernunnos looked down, suddenly looking lost in thought. His calloused fingers hovered over the lyre's gold tinted strings a few moments as he mulled over whatever thoughts had possessed him. Urianger waited patiently. He knew full well that pushing his friend to speak would only make him retreat. He'd learned this the hard way some few months prior when he'd questioned Cernunnos on the events following his reunion with Alisae. Cernunnos grew attached to people quickly and mourned heavily and if he was in mourning now, for that one then...the elezen would have to be careful with his words.

“I found a picture of myself in Amaurot.”

“A painting?”

“A picture,” he repeated, ringing his hands together. The lyre laid flat on his lap, abandoned. “It was...if the documents I found there and the building plans were to be believed...in Emet-Sel-” he shook his head, “-Hades's apartment.”

A cold chill went down Urianger's spine. The Ascian was dead, but there was nonetheless something deeply disturbing about him keeping a picture of Cernunnos's likeness in his personal quarters. It spoke of an obsession that, had Emet-Selch been in a different sort of mind...

“It's...not just me in the picture, but...” he paused a beat and did that nervous thing where he rapped his knuckles on his thighs. He didn't seem afraid, but he was getting there. “Here, let me show you.”

The lyre was put aside and the bard rose to his, pausing to wince and rub his legs as the blood rushed to them. From his bag he drew out a journal, and from that he drew out a slip, he then crossed the room and handed it to Urianger.

“This doesn't leave this room. Swear to me that it won't.”

The uncharacteristic sharpness in Cernunnos's voice startled him some, but he promised he wouldn't tell and looked down at the photo.

It was neither a drawing nor painting and the surface was smooth and shiny. It showed the likeness of a hyur (an Amaurotine, he silently corrected) with white hair and a familiar face. The skin tone and race were wrong, but the resemblance the man bore to Cernunnos was uncanny. It was eerie, made eerier still by the presence of two men in robes, one wearing a variant of the Amaurotine masks, and another who, despite missing the Garlean third eye, was no doubt Emet-Selch. He had the same face and sleepy eyes, the same dark hair (though it was longer) and distinct white streak.

“This wouldst be...”

“I think...that was me. Before Hydaelyn split everything.”

Ah. Okay. That...that certainly explained his behavior these past few moons.

“And what makes thou believe such? This could be mere coincidence.”

“Turn it over. Please."

With a sinking feeling, Urianger did just that. On the back, written in neat Amaurotine scrawl, was what he guessed to be a date, and beneath it three names:

Hades, Hythlodaeus, and Cernunnos.

“Thine enemy might have planted it there to confuse thee,” Urianger said, though he felt disturbed. Logic told him that had Emet-Selch wanted Cernunnos to see this, he would have dropped it somewhere more obvious than one of the many apartments in the vast city. Still, it was strange.

“It would explain why I took to the language so quickly.”

“Thine Echo-”

“I can tell when something's translated by the Echo, Ur. I don't know how to describe it, but O can feel it. This...I just looked at it and it was as if I'd known it my entire life. I looked at this picture and...I started weeping, Ur. Just like I did after I met Hythlodaeus. Like I knew him and just hadn't seen him in a long time."

He looked ready to collapse, then. Tears budded at the edge of his eyes and it took everything Urianger had to not drag the man into a hug. As little as he cared about propriety right then, Cernunnos didn't like being touched unless he was the one to engage it. He watched the man for a moment, heart aching as the Au Ra fought back the tears threatening to roll down his face. He turned away, briefly looking ashamed. He hated crying in front of people. Urianger could only wait for him to calm himself. He felt uniquely helpless.

“I'm scared, Ur,” he finally said. “I'm scared because I feel like I should remember these things and they're right there, but every time I reach for them they suddenly aren't there. I feel _shouldn't _be able to remember them, but I feel like I _should _and Hydaelyn...what if she's blocking those memories out? What if she's hiding them so I don't feel something when I kill an Ascian?”

“She would be doing a poor job if such were the case.”

A weak laugh. “I think whatever Midgardsormr did to deny me her light back then silenced her, so maybe it removed whatever lock she put on my Amaurotine memories and they're gradually seeping in.”

“If that should turn out to be the case, know mineself and thine other friends would be there for thee.”

He nodded and finally, cautiously turned back to Urianger. He was still scrubbing his, now splotchy face with his palms.

“If thou should need it, the Nu Mou have a hot spring within their territory. Should you ask them, they would not deny thee its use."

The rain had finally stopped. A small mercy. The walk would be wet, but both of them had walked through worse in their lifetimes.

“Hot water sounds nice, yeah.”

The bard was Alphinaud's antithesis in that he possessed a deep love for water. Not only could he swim, but he took every opportunity he could to do it. Being granted the ability to breath underwater was nothing short of a boon for him, and he'd spend hours exploring any and every body of water he could find. Sharks and other such predators were not a deterrence, and he would summon Midgardsormr before going into more dangerous waters. If there was no evidence to prove otherwise, Urianger would think his friend had been a fish in his past life.

“Will you come with me?”

Urianger raised an eyebrow. He saw an opportunity to calm Cernunnos some and latched onto. “Thou wouldst have me bath with you?”

As expected, Cernunnos sputtered and his face went redder for an entirely different reason. “I mean, only if you want to? They had lots of public bath houses in Shirogane and Doma, so I kinda got used to it, but if you don't want to that's fine! I just feel really weird asking them and...” he wiped his hands on his coat and examined his boots with intense interest, “you're good at talking to them, you know? And I'm still getting used to the fae.”

Urianger didn't bother fighting the amused smile that crept over his face. “Mine friend, thou have no need to panic, I would be most pleased to accompany thee.”

Cernunnos continued to examine his boots for a moment longer before looking up and smiling sheepishly. It was cute, though “cute” felt like an odd word for a man equal his height.

“We should be going, then,” he said, and Cernunnos nodded and turned to gather up his things. They'd be safe here, but it soothed his anxiety some to keep them close. Especially with thieving pixies flitting about. The pair tidied up quickly. It was still midday, but knowing Cernunnos, they'd be there for hours and Urianger wanted to get home before nightfall. Staying out late increased the risk of being dragged into whatever festivities the fae happened to be celebrating, and while he could put up with it, he didn't want to risk them pestering Cernunnos.

“Ur?”

“Yes?”

“What if I remember everything and suddenly I'm not, you know, me anymore?”

“Wouldst thou forget everything you hath experienced in this life? Nay. Even so, memories and knowledge a person do not make. Thou wouldst still hath your personality and...it may be a small comfort, but I feel certain the Emet-Selch saw more familiar in thou than your face.”

“I suppose you're right,” he said, smiling.

It felt forced and the distant, weary expression returned the moment he thought Urianger wasn't watching. The elezen felt a stab of worry and briefly considered relaying what he'd been told, what he'd been shown, to the other Scions. Then immediately decided that no, he would not. Doing so would be a violation of Cernunnos's trust and the promise he'd made to him. So for now he'd keep his lips sealed and comfort his friend as much as he could.

He couldn't help but worry about him.

ing what he'd been told, what he'd been shown, to the other Scions. Then immediately decided that no, he would not. Doing so would be a violation of Cernunnos's trust and the promise he'd made to him. So for now he'd keep his lips sealed and comfort his friend as much as he could.

He couldn't help but worry about him.


End file.
